


Bare

by AubreySimone



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AubreySimone/pseuds/AubreySimone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is everything he's ever needed, everything he's ever wanted, and now, he can give himself to her; now, he can be completely bare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bare

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The anime/manga InuYasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. The author, Aubrey Simone, makes no money from the writing or posting of this fic. No copyright infringement is intended.

Kaneko Sesshomaru was many things, but a fool wasn't one of them, and as he watched one of his only friends disappear into the kitchen with the empty popcorn bowl, he wondered how it was that he hadn't figured it out sooner.

 _She is a phenomenal liar, when she wants to be,_ he thought, remembering all the times when sweet, unassuming Higurashi Kagome had lied through her teeth, with the rest of their group none-the-wiser. She never lied without a reason—being heiress to one of the richest companies in the world often led to disputes over money between them, and even when she backed off and let someone pay for their own things, she always got the bill in the end—and even though the rest of the group never had and probably never would catch on to any of the lies she had told, Sesshomaru wasn't so easily fooled.

_Except by this, until now._

She came back into the room minutes later, laughing as Miroku teased her about not burning the popcorn this time, and plopped back on the couch between Kagura and Inuyasha, tossing her legs over the slightly older young woman's lap. Someone—it sounded like Shippo—demanded that whoever had the remote start the next movie, and Sesshomaru watched as the heap of limbs that had sprawled across the big sectional sofa squirmed to find the DVD player's tiny remote.

Kagome almost— _almost—_ didn't notice when he flashed the sought after device in her direction, but seeing as he had purposefully settled himself in her line of sight, she glanced up at just the right moment, and he tilted his chin upward, deliberately challenging her. Her eyes narrowed, and, as he watched, her entire demeanor changed.

It didn't matter that she was surrounded by laughter; didn't matter that she was being jostled up out of her seat so that Inuyasha could stick his hand into the space between the cushions— _she_ knew that _he_ knew her secret, and she was going to have to do something about it.

He saw it in her face the instant she decided to approach him, and he suppressed a shiver as she did it, fighting to hold her gaze until the right moment; a moment that came when she stopped and began, "Sesshomaru, do you have—"

He looked away, slipping his gaze from her face and down to the floor while presenting the remote in the same instant. He heard her breath catch, even over the ruckus that the rest of the group was causing, playfully accusing each other of hiding the remote, and something like a static shock sparked against his skin when her fingers brushed, ever-so-softly, over his wrist as she took the remote. "Thank you," she whispered, and Sesshomaru dipped his head lower, but didn't look up at her.

Only when she walked away did he find the breath that had been eluding him, and he shifted uncomfortably in his recliner as his cock strained against the seam of his zipper, letting him know in no uncertain terms that _it_ , at least, had found the experience as exciting as he'd thought it would be. He couldn't help but watch her as she made her way across her family's expansive home theater, admiring the sway of her hips and the thick fall of her hair down her back.

She looked over her shoulder at him, and then glanced toward the kitchen; he nodded, and then, after convincing his cock to stop trying to fight out of his pants, stood and headed toward the kitchen.

As expected, the movement brought a flurry of requests, and Kagome, laughing as he pulled an annoyed expression, offered to help. He grunted noncommittally— _please stay here, let me take care of you, please,_ he wanted to say—and then turned and walked out of the room, the petite female beside him.

They didn't make it into the kitchen before she asked, "How did you figure it out?" She wasn't angry, at least, and he knew that she wasn't embarrassed—they had talked about sex far too much to be embarrassed about it, despite not having had any conversation about _this_ aspect of it.

He glanced down at her. "I saw you earlier, with Shiori."

She hummed, obviously remembering the only place she had been earlier with their shy friend. "That doesn't mean anything, though; people wander around in that section of sex shops all the time." She stopped just short of the swinging kitchen door, and Sesshomaru shouldered it open for her, wondering if she knew that just that seemingly minor act of making him open the door for her made him want to kneel at her feet.

"You were giving her advice on what to do; advice that only a dominant would know."

Setting one of their customary three popcorn bowls on the counter, she turned to face him, leaning against the counter behind her. For a long time, she just stared, and then she hummed again, pushed away from the counter, and stood directly in front of him. "And that little episode, with the remote?"

Her voice had gotten quieter, and she touched one hand against his chest, the other laying against his hip. He tried not to shiver. "I wanted..." The fingers against his hip tightened. "I wanted you to know."

She stepped closer, and despite the fact that her head only came to the center of his chest, he felt small next to her, powerless. "To know what?"

"To know that I...that I wanted you."

This time, the sound she made was less of a hum and more of a moan, and Sesshomaru had to close his eyes against the way just that sound made him feel—breathless and shivery and _pleased_ that it had been because of him.

His eyes flew open again when she boldly palmed his cock through his pants, already hard, and she smiled up at him when he looked at her, brown eyes dark in a wicked, _wicked_ way. "Do you know," she mused, "how many times I've thought of you on your knees?"

The shivery-breathless-too-small-for-his-skin feeling intensified, and Sesshomaru briefly wondered if he was supposed to answer, because he was sure that the part of his brain that controlled speech didn't want to participate, and he tried not to look like a fool when he simply shook his head, fingers clenching at his sides. Kagome licked her lips.

"Too many to count," she whispered, stepping so close that her ample breasts pressed against his chest and the hand she had between his minutely trembling legs had to be uncomfortable. "I've thought about marking that beautiful neck of yours, too," she continued, raising up on tiptoe to that her lips just brushed against his skin, "marking it so dark that it wouldn't go away for _weeks_ and so that everyone would know who you belonged to." His hands started shaking.

"I want to tie you to my bed and lick every inch of you; to tease you until you beg." Her voice had gone husky and when she pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to the side of his throat, he swallowed convulsively, drawing in a ragged, wet sounding breath. "I want to ride you so hard that you lose that haughty attitude of yours...I want to make you cry out for me, make you scream my name until your voice goes out." She drew in a breath that was just as raw as his had been, and then pulled away and pressed her mouth harshly to his own.

Sesshomaru couldn't help it—he groaned and fell easily into the hard pull of her kiss and the slick dominance of her tongue, lifting a hand to grip her waist. The pressure of her fingers on him, intense even though the thick layer of his jeans and the thinner barrier of his underwear, was short-circuiting every reasonable part of his brain, shutting down the rational voice that usually kept him from doing the very thing he started doing just as she pulled away for breath and licked her lips: babbling.

"Want that too, please, want it so much, can't stop thinking about you, never stop thinking about you. God, Kagome, you have no idea how much I want you, have wanted you for years, please make me yours, I want to be yours, please Kagome, please. I'll do whatever you want, just please, I—"

"Shh," she soothed, and he shut up quicker than he would have if someone had been holding a gun to his head, closing his eyes against the heat in his groin and the tickling need for release that skittered across his balls. "I understand."

And then somehow her hand was against his bare skin and her fingers were smearing the wetness of his precome around the sensitive head of his cock and he was coming and coming _hard_ and biting his lips to keep quiet while she whispered in his ear, told him that he was beautiful and perfect and good and that she was so very _proud_ of him.

When he came down from whatever level of euphoria she had forced him into—somehow still on his feet even though his knees felt like jelly and the muscles in his thighs shivered uncontrollably—her hand was still on his softening cock, the cool wetness of his come slicked against his belly and probably against a little of the bottom of his shirt.

Kagome kissed his ear with damp lips, and he reflexively grabbed at his shirt when she pulled away, tucking his cock back into his underwear with her clean hand and somehow zipping him without any awkward tugging. She smiled softly at the flush he felt spreading over his cheeks, and then, to his almost-moritification, licked her hand, and then his belly, clean, the whiteness of his spend and the pinkness of her tongue causing his stomach to lurch.

"You wear your watch on your left arm, don't you?" she asked after washing and drying her hands, and if he hadn't still been in a daze from one of the strongest orgasms he'd had to date, he might've thought the question was a little odd; as it were, he simply nodded, and she gripped his left arm in a surprisingly firm grip.

"What are you...?"

She smiled as she rolled the long sleeve of his shirt away from his wrist and up past his elbow. "Giving you something to remember," she said, and even though Sesshomaru really wanted to ask what she meant, the path from brain to mouth dissolved when she lifted his arm to her lips, licked teasingly over the sensitive skin in the crook of his elbow, and _sucked_.

If he hadn't come just minutes before, Sesshomaru would've been instantly hard—his cock made a valiant effort at the beginning stages of swelling anyway, and he didn't even worry about how silly he probably looked with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide.

The fact that she was marking him, and quite thoroughly at that, made his insides do a funny little twist-jump-shiver-drop thing, and he groaned deep in his throat as she added her teeth to the torture, scraping them shamelessly hard against the stinging heat of what was probably going to be the most painful hickey—in the strangest place—he'd ever had. The fact that she was getting enough skin into her mouth to _make_ a mark was testament to a skill that Sesshomaru _really_ wanted her to demonstrate on other parts of his anatomy—the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he groaned again.

Eyes so dark that they were almost black, Kagome slowly pulled away, licking at the already red flesh with a soothing slowness that made his head go all fuzzy with pleasure. Realizing that he was probably a few breaths shy of babbling again, Sesshomaru forced himself to relax, and allowed Kagome to roll his sleeve back down, her fingers brushing against his skin. When she had smoothed the fabric out to her satisfaction, she gave him a bright Kagome-smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Right! We'd better get back before someone comes looking for us." The abrupt change in mood left him slightly disoriented, and he stood blankly for a moment until Kagome laughed and touched his arm, her thumb grazing over the fresh bruise. "Don't worry, we'll talk later, I promise."

And as she went about the process of popping four bags of popcorn and gathering the soft drinks that everyone had asked for, Sesshomaru thumbed her mark and smiled.

**|***|***|**

They met a week later in a cosy little cafe that Kagome said had the best hot chocolate she'd ever tasted, and as they sat in a secluded corner with his laptop lighting their faces, they wrote up his contract and talked about what they wanted—including that theirs would be a real relationship in public as well as in private—sipping sweet hot chocolate out of the same cup.

If he hadn't been sure that no one could hear them, he would've been embarrassed at the questions she asked—insanely personal questions like, "What about rimming?" and "Do you like to be blindfolded?" and "Have you ever been with another man?"

She asked him what his safe word was at least once every few minutes, and smiled sweetly at him every time he said "cinnamon", and while he went through the process of confirming his preferences—bondage and breathplay made it high on his list of 'green activities'—she stroked the mark she'd left on his arm with varying degrees of pressure. After the fifth time that the pain sent heat pooling in his groin, he added masochism to his green list, and suppressed a blush at her chuckle.

It took hours to finish, and when they finally typed their names at the bottom of the contract and emailed themselves both the contract and his preference lists, Sesshomaru felt something like anticipation creep up his spine. He wanted to go somewhere private _now_ , somewhere where he could fold to his knees and make his mistress happy, where he could show her that he belonged to her the way he'd wanted to belong to her for years.

But Kagome made no move to get up and leave, even after she closed the lid on his laptop and upended what little hot chocolate there was in their cup into her mouth. She sighed in contentment as she draped herself across his side, turning so that she could flip one leg over his and hooking her calf around his own.

When she started talking, at first, it wasn't about anything in particular—her professors and her classes, mostly—and Sesshomaru fell into the easy rhythm of having a conversation with her, enjoying the way he could make her laugh and the little kisses she pressed to his jaw and the affectionate squeezes she bestowed his thigh when he said something she liked.

He had just finished telling a tale that his little brother would've hated him for telling when she pressed her breasts into his arm and whispered, "I want to make you come, pet," and anything and everything he'd been thinking about tangled and knotted and collided in his brain. He swallowed and tried not blush.

"Should we leave, then?"

He was glad he didn't sound as out of sorts as he felt, but Kagome smiled at him as though he'd said something silly. "Do you want to leave?"

It was a careful question—having just written the list, he knew that he'd put public sex in the yellow category, the maybe category. If he said no, then she would drop the subject immediately and they'd probably go to her house or his apartment instead, but if he said yes...

 _If I say yes, she'll do it right here...right here, where anyone could catch us._ His throat felt tight, and the heat beneath his collar was nearly suffocating. Kagome stroked his thigh.

"Sesshomaru, you can say no, you know that. If you don't want to do that yet, then say so."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and when he shook his head, when he said, "No, not yet," she smiled beautifully and kissed his cheek.

In the car, Sesshomaru glanced over into the passenger seat, feeling foolish now that the anxiety had passed. "I'm sorry."

She blinked at him. "For what?"

He cleared his throat and focused on the road. "For not staying in the cafe."

"You weren't ready," Kagome soothed, reaching across to touch his arm. "I'm not angry at you, alright? If there's anybody I should be mad at, it's me—I let excitement take over." Her fingers moved into the crook of his elbow, and he drew in a shuddering breath when she pressed, hard, against the slowly fading bruise. "Besides...I want you on my bed the first time."

If she thought anything about the choked noise that bubbled up from his throat at her declaration, she said nothing, and Sesshomaru tried not to fidget as they headed toward the Higurashi estate.

**|***|***|**

Sesshomaru had learned at a young age that to show any sort of weakness was only going to hinder him, and it was with this knowledge, handed down to him so generously from his mother, that he went through life. There were many who would call him emotionless or cold-hearted, but no one really knew who he was beneath the veneer of ice he presented to the public.

No one but Kagome.

When he'd first had the realization that she _knew_ him, it was a few days before his twenty-first birthday, at a party that their respective parental figures—Sesshomaru's mother and Kagome's father—had forced them to go to. His mother had murmured something about getting new business, and even though she'd promised him that they wouldn't stay long, he still found himself wandering around the old fashioned ballroom four hours after their arrival.

Kagome had been trying to catch his eye for the past hour, and despite the fact that she was his half-brother's friend, not his, he finally looked at her, and then followed her to the punch table, where she held her cup out for a refill and smiled knowingly at him. "Wanna go around the corner and get a drink?" When he didn't answer, she leaned closer and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I hate these things."

And that was when he realized that he'd been sneaking glances at the door for the past two hours, wondering if his mother would be as angry as she usually was when he decided to leave these little functions.

From that moment on, he had counted Kagome as his friend as well as his little brother's, and though he didn't get as close to her as quickly as Inuyasha and the rest of the gang did, she proved to him time and time again that she knew him better than anyone knew him—better than he _wanted_ anyone to know him.

They'd been friends for three years before he realized that his feelings toward her—fondness, camaraderie, easy love—were far stronger than he'd thought. Of course, by that time, she was seeing someone, and in the face of her happiness, Sesshomaru couldn't possibly be so selfish as to press himself on her.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He waited through the death of her mother; through the passing of her grandfather; through her switch from majoring in art to majoring in business after her brother declared he wanted nothing to do with their father or their family inheritance.

And now, finally, he could have what he's waited for.

"What are you thinking about?"

Looking up from his position at the foot of her bed, Sesshomaru blinked. "You," he answered truthfully, and the small smile that quirked her lips made his heart race.

"What about me?"

She motioned to him as she shrugged out of her robe, and Sesshomaru swallowed before attempting to answer, nearly mesmerized at the smooth, supple slope of her shoulders and the wide flare of her hips. "About how we became friends."

Handing him a bottle of lotion, she sat at her vanity and dipped her chin toward the floor; he folded easily, settling back on his heels, and cradled the leg she offered carefully in his lap. "At that thing Dad forced me to go to, I remember that." Her smile spread wider when he glanced up. "We got really drunk after we left."

Sesshomaru bit back a grin, rubbing careful circles into her feet and ankles. The lotion was thick and smelled warm, like cocoa butter and almonds, and the passing thought that his hands were going to smell like her sent pleasure curling in his chest. " _I_ got really drunk, you mean."

"Details," she murmured, but the laugh in her voice was everything but nonchalant and every bit as teasing as the light in her eyes.

He didn't respond except with a smile, and as he turned his attention back to massaging the lotion into her skin, she reached down and laid her hand in his head, the weight pleasant and approving. He felt his shoulders relax.

He skipped up to her arms, and had smoothed lotion into every inch of her skin, had fondled her breasts and gone back to finish her thighs when the smell of her arousal hit him, thick and sweet. He swallowed tightly as she slid forward on her vanity stool, parting her legs so that he could reach the insides of her legs. He tried to keep his touch light and appropriately smooth, but no matter what he did, the sight of her belly hitching with her breath and the muted wetness between her legs caused his hands to hitch, one on her knee and the other nestled in the bend of her hip. He wanted to taste her, to kiss her thighs and touch her clit, to stick his tongue inside of her and scoop everything she had to give into his mouth.

Her hand slipped to the back of his head, and when her fingers closed into his hair, he couldn't help the breathy "please" that slipped from his lips. She made an assenting noise in her throat, and then pulled him forward, and he groaned before burying his face between her thighs, hands flexing on her hips.

She cooed down at him, fingers stroking his nape. "Good...flick your tongue over—yes just like that, don't stop..."

He could hardly breathe for the heat of her, and her taste was even better than her smell, salty-sweet with a bit of spice and a touch of musk. She rolled her hips against his face, and he automatically released her, folding his arms at the small of his back and gripping his elbows. She sucked in a breath and cursed.

"Look at you, so beautiful...you're so good, Sesshomaru, so good, and so damn gorgeous." The praise—and the moan that vibrated through the air—set his cock jerking against his belly, and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to bury himself in her heat, to lose himself in the tightness he could feel around his tongue. He moaned, and her fingers tightened in his hair.

"Don't move," she demanded, and then ground her mound frantically against his mouth. That she was taking what she wanted—what she _needed—_ from him pulled a groan from his throat, and she sucked in a tight breath before stilling, fingers tight in his hair, and coming against his lips. He could feel the convulsions of her orgasm against his tongue, and he felt incredibly satisfied that _he_ had been the cause of them.

When she finally moved away, she soothed the sting in his scalp and cupped the nape of his neck, drawing him up to her level before pressing their mouths together, licking her taste from his tongue as though she craved it. Her murmured compliments made his skin buzz with pleasure, and despite the aching length of his cock, he kept his arms crossed behind him, fingers digging into his elbows with restraint.

She noticed, and crooned against his lips, trailing her mouth down to his shoulder before setting her chin against its swell. She was looking at him, he realized, watching him struggle to keep his hands to himself; a pleasured hum vibrated against his skin, and she reached around him to drag her fingertips against his wrists and forearms. Her thumb fell against the bruise she'd left a week earlier, and he sucked a breath through his teeth when she pressed against it, the pain lancing all the way to his shoulder.

"What's your safe word?" she asked, pulling away even as he leaned forward. His head fell onto her knee, and he swallowed.

"Cinnamon."

"Okay." She gripped his chin, forcing his eyes to hers. "If something gets uncomfortable, you tell me immediately, do you understand? I'm not going to be angry with you for safe wording."

He nodded. "I understand."

"Good." She smiled and stroked his cheek, and then jerked her chin. "Go to the closet and get the leather cuffs. They're on the second shelf down."

He shivered at the promise in her voice, and went to do as she'd told.

**|***|***|**

Kagome didn't think that Sesshomaru would ever know what he did to her—that her heart jumped frantically in her chest every time she saw him; that she had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him.

Watching him now, the muscles in his shoulders flexing with the effort of keeping his bound hands just above the small of his back, she felt possessive and raw, and if she hadn't pinched herself in the shower earlier, she would've thought she was dreaming. _I never thought this would happen, not like this._

Swallowing hard to keep herself in check, she circled around to Sesshomaru's front, looking over the long lines of his body and just barely refraining from tossing her original plan out of the window.

Sesshomaru was honestly one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen, long and lean like a cat or a greyhound, all compact muscle hidden beneath smooth, pale skin. His shoulders were broad and his hips narrow, and though his face was almost feminine, there was a certain masculinity in the set of his jaw and the line of his full lips.

"Beautiful," she whispered, just to see the muted pleasure flash through his honey-brown eyes. She made a mental note to break through the layers and layers of apathy he always shrouded himself in.

Pressing her palms against his hips, she rocked up onto her tiptoes and breathed across his mouth, close enough to feel the heat of his lips but far enough away to tease him with the promise of a kiss. She held herself there until she felt his entire body tense with the effort to keep still, and then she slid her hands up to his shoulders and pulled downward. He folded gracefully to his knees, her hands steady on his shoulders, and she didn't try to hold in the moan at the sight he made.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you like this," she confessed, flexing her fingers against his warm skin and knowing that he wouldn't know that she was really talking about how long she'd wanted him period—how many years she'd waited for him to see her as more than just his friend. "You don't know what it does to me, to have you here, vulnerable."

Their mouths were still a hairsbreadth apart, and his exhale trembled, just slightly. She could feel the clench of his shoulders against her palms as he flexed his hands and she smiled, and pressed a soft, open mouthed kiss against his lips, a split second too short to be satisfactory. This time, his sigh was audible, and he shivered.

"I could do whatever I wanted to you," she continued, "and you couldn't do anything about it." Carefully, she moved just a little closer, hovering over his upturned face. She allowed the catch in her breath to be heard, and admitted, "I want you in _so_ many ways, Sesshomaru."

He sucked in a breath, and she kissed him before he let it out, gripping tightly at his shoulders and leaning into the strength of him. He groaned into her mouth, a deep, rumbling sound that she was learning how to pull out of him, and she could feel how tightly wound he was, how much effort it was taking him not to move, not to press for more than what she was ready to give him.

When she pulled back, her lips were stinging and he was panting, his own mouth beginning to tinge red. The color, she noticed, was spreading across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and she reached up to caress the heated skin, watching his eyes flutter shut at the contact.

Slowly, she straightened and stepped away from him, and if she hadn't known him so well, she would've missed the way he leaned toward her when she moved, would've missed the split-second tightening of his brow before he smoothed it away. She wanted to kiss him again, but instead forced herself to back away until she couldn't feel his body heat anymore.

"On the bed."

He opened his eyes and nodded, and if she hadn't already been aroused, the moist curve of his swollen lips and the reddened swell of his beautiful cock would have done it for her.

Maneuvering in a way that spoke of experience, Sesshomaru stood and climbed onto the mattress to lay on his back, and the artist in her took a moment to appreciate the sight he made, shoulders straining and back arched over his hands and forearms, skin pale against the burgundy of her sheets. The wetness between her legs flowed hotter.

She climbed up after him only after she'd gotten control of herself again, kneeling between his legs and pushing them as wide as she dared despite the voice in her head that demanded she make him spread until she could see the rosette below his sack—that way was dangerous, something she would have to ease into if she didn't want to scare him away.

Laying a hand soothingly against his thigh, she looked at his face. "Okay?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Okay."

She smiled, and leaned down to kiss his hip. His cock jumped against her cheek, and she chuckled before sucking his skin into her mouth, reveling in the hiss and the tremble that she gained as reward.

Although the prospect of giving him another hickey was a dizzying thing, she licked at his skin and moved on, kissing down to the inside of one thigh and biting at the soft heat she found there. Sesshomaru grunted and jerked, but a quick glance upward told her that she'd only caught him off guard—his mouth had begun to fall open, and the redness on his face was meandering slowly down his throat.

Mentally adding biting to the list of things she wanted to try—and had to talk to him about—she progressed, licking his finely haired thighs and mouthing at the back of his knee and the curve of his ankle. She found out that he was ticklish, and that the arch of his foot was, just like everyone else's, extremely sensitive—his cock jumped hard when she pressed her fingers to it, a bead of precome oozing slowly from the flared head. Her mouth watered.

Licking back up the opposite leg and being sure to pay all of the same spots the same amount of attention, she pressed a kiss to the crease where his thigh met his pelvis, and then slid her hands upward to gently cup his cock in her palms. He hissed, and his hips jerked off of the bed. Humming, she released him and pressed him down, staring at him until he submitted and looked away.

"You can come whenever you want, pet," she said, and he looked at her again, mouth parting a little more, "but if you be good and wait, I'll let you come inside me." They were both clean, after all, and even as the words left her mouth, Kagome realized that she wanted nothing more than to feel him pulse inside her.

His throat bobbed when he swallowed, and she waited until he nodded to break eye contact and let go of his hips. He relaxed into the mattress in a way that only a submissive could manage, nearly boneless and completely trusting. Kagome had to bite her tongue against what she wanted to say—against telling him that he was gorgeous and everything she'd ever wanted and that she would never let him go—and slowly reached to close her fingers around him again, fist over fist.

He was a little over average sized, and his cock curved just a bit toward his belly, the veins slightly more prominent than she was used to seeing. The urge to trace them with her tongue wouldn't be denied, and she did so as slowly as she dared, listening to Sesshomaru's breaths go harsh.

Out of all the things she loved to do—and she loved so many things that she'd thought, for a while, that she was a sex addict—giving a man a blowjob was one of the things she would do without being asked. She always treated her subs with the respect and love they deserved, and performing this act for them, whether as a reward or simply just because, gave her a rush like almost nothing else could.

She couldn't help moaning at the first taste of his precome, couldn't help closing her lips around the head of him and sucking until she got another drop. She pumped her hands until his hips were arching off of the bed, flicked her tongue just beneath the head until he was making noises, and then, when his chest was heaving, swallowed him down and made him beg.

And she would probably tell him one day that the sound of his voice, deep and throaty and _wrecked_ , nearly made her want to give him the world. Probably. 

At the moment, she settled for listening to him, nose pressed snugly against his pubic bone, and tried not to squirm.

"God your _mouth_ , Kagome...don't know what you're doing to me, wanna come so bad, wanna give it to you, just for you, only for you..." She drew away for a breath and glanced up at him, not surprised to see his face and chest beginning to glisten with sweat. "Don't stop," he was saying, "I can take it, let me show you, please. I won't come, I promise I won't, just please...please let me have your mouth again, please, plea—"

He choked off when she lowered her head again, swallowing his entire length in one go. She hummed quietly around him while he cursed and begged above her, varying low hums with high ones at random intervals and pulling back only when her lungs were screaming for air. The burn in her chest reminded her of another thing she wanted to do, and she swallowed the mixture of precome and spit that had collected in her mouth, slowly climbing up to kneel over his lap.

He had stopped talking and was staring at the place between them, teeth biting into his bottom lip and head bobbing in a nod that she didn't think he was consciously doing. She could tell that his hands were flexing behind his back—the muscles in his biceps moved rhythmically with the motion, and she took a moment to let her mind wrap around the fact that yes, this was Sesshomaru, and yes, he was _hers_.

"Mine," she whispered, and rose onto her knees, taking him in hand and lining him up with the slick entrance of her aching pussy. "You're mine. Say it."

His eyes snapped to hers, and he licked his abused lips. "Yours. I'm yours, always yours, only yours. I—" He cut himself off when she bore down on him, and the muscles in his jaw strained against his skin as he clenched his teeth.

She lowered herself smoothly, fingers plucking at her nipples, and only when she was seated did Sesshomaru relax, breathing hard and fast through his nose. She gave her hips an experimental rock, and they both gasped then, eyes locking. Kagome forced herself to breathe.

"Remember what I told you last week?" she asked, not caring that she sounded breathless. "That I was going to ride you until you lost that attitude?"

As he always had, he read the meaning behind her words, and took a deep breath before setting his mouth in the line it usually only held when he was being especially arrogant. He said nothing, because arrogant Sesshomaru hardly ever spoke, and Kagome groaned low in her throat before she began to move.

The slide of him was exquisite, something she hadn't had in a long while, and she stared at him while she rode him, twisting her hips just to see the light in his eyes change. She could tell that it was taking effort for him to keep his mask in place, and when he let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a moan, she leaned over him and pressed her mouth to his.

He kissed her like she was giving him something he needed to survive, groaning into her mouth and gasping her name into the space between them.

And when she wrapped her fingers around his throat, he said, " _pleasepleaseplease_ ," and she couldn't deny him.

**|***|***|**

There were no words for what it felt like, to have his air cut off and Kagome's sweet pussy moving over his cock.

Staring into her face, he tried to moan but couldn't, tried to grab her but couldn't, tried to tell her to give him more but couldn't—and then she let go and he had hardly gotten his breath back before the words "please" and "more" and "please" were tumbling from his lips. She laughed and gave him what he begged for.

She talked to him this time, voice hoarse from swallowing his cock, and over the sound of his blood roaring in his ears, he heard "beautiful" and "such a good pet" and "you feel so good inside me", the latter of which was the one he held on to the most, because _she_ felt so incredibly good to him, too.

He told her so when she let go again, and even though his face was pounding and his heart was thundering and he couldn't feel his hands anymore, he wanted to stay where he was forever, with Kagome leaning over him and his cock buried in her pussy. He might have told her that too, might have blurted it along with the million other things floating around in his head, but she was beginning to move faster, her breasts swaying above him, and he heard her say, "coming, Sesshomaru, I'm coming," before she tightened on him like a vice.

He groaned and jacked his hips up into her, his orgasm building like a wave as she continued to grind her hips into his, mouth at his neck and tongue working on the skin she was sucking at.

It was when her fingers closed around his throat one more time that he came with a ferocity that he had never experienced before, balls drawing up tight and prostate twinging with a brief cramp. He may have shouted her name, but he couldn't hear himself over the roar in his ears, and he felt like he kept coming even after he'd stopped, a phantom sensation that sent shivers racing up and down his spine.

Kagome slid off of him with a hiss, and reached underneath him (how she had gained the usage of her limbs so quickly was a mystery to him—he felt like he'd never move again) to undo the cuffs that kept his hands bound, and he shifted as much as he could as she pulled his arms from behind his back, his mind hazy and his thoughts disjointed.

The pins and needles didn't come until after she'd been massaging at his arms and shoulders for a while, and by then he had come back into himself enough to cringe; she noticed, and gave him a small smile, deceptively strong fingers rubbing warmth and sensation back into his aching arms.

"You did good," she said when the silence had stretched, watching him flex his fingers.

Warm pleasure and curling satisfaction pooled into his stomach. "Thank you."

She smiled, and leaned down to kiss him, brushing her fingers over the bruise she’d left against his neck. "Shower?"

He hummed, and they washed each other in Kagome’s massive en suite, teasing until he had taken her against the wall of the shower and had to bathe all over again. Thinking idly, as he helped her dry off, that being her boyfriend was just as intoxicating as being her sub, Sesshomaru swept her off of her feet and carried her to the bed, where he curled around her on the non-sweat-soaked side of the bed, pulling her close until she’d buried her face into his neck and tangled their legs together.

In the dark, it was easy to let his mind wander, to think about what would happen if things didn’t work out between them, or if Kagome decided that he was too cold, too aristocratic for her tastes. His gut lurched at the thought, and he pulled her closer, frowning into the black of her bedroom.

Letting her go had stopped being an option, he realized, long before this; long before she and he had become "we". _She is far too important, now...far too essential._ And instead of scaring him, the thought calmed him, and he drew in a deep breath before relaxing against her again.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her voice almost surprised him into jumping, and he huffed out a breath that swirled the damp strands of her hair. "You," he answered truthfully.

"What about me?"

He pressed a kiss to her hair but didn't answer, and she hummed in understanding and burrowed deeper into his embrace.

Maybe one day, he would tell her about how she'd stripped him bare without him noticing, about how he was far more comfortable with her than he was with his own mother, about how he wanted her to tie him up and hold him down and let him do the same to her. Maybe he would tell her that he wanted to give her everything she needed and anything that she wanted, that he wanted her to be his as much as he was hers.

One day, he would tell her that he loved her, and one day, she would tell him the same.

He drifted off to sleep, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, and dreamt of Kagome.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been posted only to Dokuga for a while, but I decided to put it here, too, just because. 
> 
> At any rate, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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